Little Red Bird
by castiello
Summary: Jane receives an unexpected gift. A Mentalist holiday story written for Paint It Red's PIRvent Calendar. Heavy spoilers for 5x08 "Red Sails in the Sunset."


**Little Red Bird**  
by castiello

The front door was open, and the sight inside was breathtaking – white-fluff cotton snowdrifts covered the windowsills, and rows upon rows of icicles hung from the ceiling, their iridescent indigo bulbs rippling in a steady pattern of drips. Glass jars full of barbershop-striped candy canes enticed from every conceivable surface, and the scent of pine was thick in the air, leading Jane's eyes to the piece de resistance: an eight-foot-tall Blue Spruce, star-strung with twinkling white lights.

Lorelei stood on tiptoe with her back to him, humming "Silent Night" as she hung a delicate golden ornament on the tree. Wavy hair spilled down over her shoulder blades, bright blond, with an inch of dark roots showing. She turned and smiled when she heard him walk in.

"You came."

"I did." Jane's gaze continued to wander the room, spying baubles and bright-wrapped chocolates and two dozen teabags, spread out in the shape of a snowflake. "I like what you've done with the place…"

Lorelei grinned and went back to hanging the ornaments, which Jane noticed were all the same – tiny gold-barred birdcages, with miniature cardinals perched inside. The lights from the tree played across the gleaming ornaments, making shimmering dots dance on the walls. Jane was so busy taking it all in – the decorations and the candies and the glowing, sparkling winter wonderland around him – that he almost missed the package sitting under the tree.

No bigger than a ring box, the small parcel was wrapped in silver paper and tied with a perfect red bow.

"What's that?" Jane asked.

Lorelei picked up the box and ducked her head, smiling coyly. "It's for you."

She handed him the little package, and Jane gave it a shake. Nothing rattled or shifted inside. There was almost no weight to it, as though the box was stuffed with cotton or tissue or nothing at all. Empty as air.

"What is it?" Jane asked again, his curiosity tickled.

Lorelei looked him in the eye. "It's what you want most. What you've been waiting for."

Jane stared at her for a moment, then looked down at the silver box in his hand. What he wanted most. What he'd been _waiting for_…His heart started to jackhammer. Jane's hands shook like a junkie three hours past fix-time as he ripped off the bow and clawed past the tape and paper. A manic smile spread across his face as he lifted the lid – more a baring of teeth than an expression of joy. _This is it, this is it…_

Inside the box sat a single, folded square of glossy white paper. It had to be the name. _His _name. Breathing hard, Jane began to unfold the paper, each unbent crease bringing him closer, closer...

But there was no name hidden within.

Jane's own younger, less-lined face grinned up at him from the wrinkled photograph in his hands. His shiny black suit was gleaming with the midday sun, his flyaway hair caught up in the wind as he looked at something off-camera. There was no one else in the picture, and nothing significant in the background – just clouds and sky.

The wild smile faded from Jane's here-and-now face like someone had just splashed him with cold water. "I don't understand," he said slowly. "You're supposed to be giving me Red John…"

"This is better," Lorelei told him. Her dark eyes sparkled with secrets.

Jane just looked at her flatly. "No. No more games. You have to stop protecting him—"

"I'm _not_ protecting him." She took a step closer, her face soft-lit by the tree. "I'm saving _you_."

Jane said nothing. He had no interest in whatever she was offering. There was only one thing he wanted – and once again, Lorelei had dangled that one thing in front of him, only to pull it out of reach at the last second. Jane watched stonily as Lorelei wandered back to the tree, walking barefoot over fallen needles.

"I stole that, you know," she said finally, nodding at the photo in Jane's hand. "From him."

"You stole this from Red John," Jane repeated, unimpressed.

"Yes. It's very precious to him. And soon, it'll be precious to you, too." Lorelei's eyes twinkled like the bulbs on the Spruce.

Suddenly, Jane's heart started pounding again. Maybe it wasn't a game, after all. There were other ways of giving up Red John, besides revealing his name. This photo had belonged to Red John. It was a personal object. Something he'd _touched_…

Jane's stomach lurched. He dropped the Kodak image like it was a ball of fire. The picture landed softly back in its nest of red tissue, and Lorelei laughed.

"No, Patrick, his fingerprints are not on there."

The eager flames inside Jane snuffed out as quickly as they had arisen. He was starting to feel very weary. "Lorelei-"

"But there _is _something special about the picture," she went on. "You just have to look closely."

With a sigh, Jane picked the photo back up and began to study it, mostly just to humor her.

"What do you see?"

"It's an old picture of me. Judging from the suit I'm wearing, it was taken almost exactly twelve years ago – I only had that suit a few weeks before I tore one of the seams. I never bothered to have it repaired."

"How did you tear it?" Lorelei asked.

"Playing on the beach, with my daughter."

Lorelei's gaze softened, but Jane ignored it. He didn't need her pity, especially when she was in the middle of toying with him. He went back to analyzing the picture.

"The sun is high overhead, which means it was close to noon. There are no trees, buildings or natural landmarks to help narrow down the location, but it was taken somewhere warm, and breezy."

"You're sure there's nothing else?" Lorelei teased. "Nothing that could tell you the _exact _location?"

Jane frowned, squinting harder, closer, _deeper_…The photo was barely a millimeter from the tip of his nose when he spotted the detail – a tiny blur of frayed fabric, up near the armpit of his suit jacket.

"It's torn," Jane murmured. He looked up at Lorelei sharply. "The suit is torn in this picture. I never wore it again after it ripped. This was taken that day, on the beach with my daughter…"

"Looks like _someone _was spying on you." Lorelei smiled, giving one of the hanging ornaments a playful little push with her finger. The tiny red bird swung back and forth inside its miniature cage. Her twinkling eyes met Jane's confused ones. "Do you need three guesses?" she asked. "Or can you get it in one?"

Jane shook his head. "No. Red John couldn't have taken this – that was months before I was called in on his case. He had no reason to be watching me back then, no reason to even know I existed."

"Oh, but he _did _know," Lorelei said. "He knew all about you, Patrick Jane. Even back then."

"Why?" Jane edged closer to her, his brown shoes crunching in the pine needles. "What possible reason could he have to spy on me? I'd done nothing to attract his attention at that point…"

"Actually-" Lorelei stroked a hand gently over his blond curls "-You'd done _everything _to attract his attention. You just didn't know it, yet."

Jane stayed silent, waiting for her to continue.

"You first met Red John at a dinner party hosted by one of your clients. He was there to connect with the rich and powerful; you were there to bilk the suckers. At some point, the two of you crossed paths. The meeting probably only lasted a few minutes – you shook hands, made introductions, talked a little bit about work and family – and then it was over. For you, it was just a blip on the radar. Nothing more. But for him, in those few minutes, the whole world shifted. Right from the moment he saw you, he knew."

"Knew what?" Jane whispered. His throat felt tight.

Lorelei looked right into his eyes. "There was something about you, Patrick. Maybe he was drawn to your intelligence, or the way you could manipulate almost everyone in sight. Or maybe-" She reached up and brushed a finger across his lips "—it was just your smile. Whatever it was, he fell, and he fell hard. That's how it is with him. The same thing happened when he saw me – I was just walking down the street one day, out shopping with my sister, and he knew right then and there. He didn't kill Miranda because he wanted to save me – he did it because he wanted to _have _me. All to himself."

"So," Jane said slowly, "Red John ran into me at some random function, and just decided that he had to 'have' me?"

"All to himself," Lorelei repeated. "That's why he was watching you. That's why he pulled strings to make sure the police consulted with you on his case."

"That's why he got so furious when I insulted him on the air," Jane realized grimly. "In his mind, we already had a relationship. He took it personally…"

"_Very_. But don't you see? That's the good news."

Jane huffed a humorless laugh. "That's _good _news?"

"Think about it: he was already obsessed with you before you went on that show. He was already watching you, waiting for the right time to make his move. Patrick, he was already planning to kill your family…"

Something tightened inside Jane's chest. "What are you talking about? You've just said it yourself – he killed them because he took my insults personally. He felt like I'd betrayed him—"

"You did. But what did _I _do?" Lorelei asked softly. "I never did anything to him, and that didn't stop him from killing Miranda. Just like he would've killed your family, even if you'd never insulted him. It's just what he does."

Jane stared at her, breathing hard. "No. No, I made him angry. I painted a target on their backs—"

She pressed a finger to his lips. "But he would've done it anyway. It was only a matter of time. He gets jealous the same way he gets angry – sooner or later, he would have killed them, just so he could have you to himself. There was no way you could've known, and nothing you could have done to stop it. It wasn't your fault…"

Jane was shaking his head. His face was rigid. "Don't. Don't say that."

"But it's true. All these years, you've been torturing yourself for nothing. You're _innocent_, Patrick. You're a victim, just like your family. Just like my sister."

He was still shaking his head. His eyes and throat were burning. "No, I—"

"Let it go," Lorelei whispered, taking his face in her hands. "Let _him _go."

His whole body was shaking, now, a force like a tsunami rising inside of him. For a moment, all he could hear was the roar. Then the wave hit, and image after image crashed against the shoreline – bloody smiles and burning tigers, his wife and his daughter, dead on the floor…

Jane squeezed his eyes shut against the onslaught. The red tide washed over him, bubbling laughter in his ears as it tried to spin him and drown him and carry him away, but Jane held on to a different sound: the distant music of his daughter, giggling as she ran with him across the sand.

_Speed of light, speed of light, you'll never catch me, Daddy! You'll never…catch…me!_

Jane's heart flooded with the memory. The blood water boiled higher, furious and jealous, and then, like a storm spent, it slowly receded down the beach, trickled back between black rocks, and disappeared into the sea.

Two hot tears slipped down Jane's cheeks. He opened his eyes, and Lorelei pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Then she pressed something else into his hand. Jane looked down and saw one of the little golden birdcages resting in his palm. Only this cage was different – the door was wide open, the bird long gone.

Lorelei smiled. "Be free."


End file.
